Olga chuckled. “Well, you know, dear, age hasn’t sapped my enthusiasm for life. Crafting these pieces is a hobby that bringsme immense joy. And let’s just say I still have a wellspring of energy and a backlog of ideas.”
“It’s evident in every piece,” Maxi agreed. “But what did you plan to do with all of these beautiful items before the gallery idea came up?”
Olga laughed heartily. “Oh, you won’t believe it, but I was running out of people to gift them to! My home started looking like a Scandinavian holiday market. It’s a good thing you found a purpose for them; otherwise, my children would have had another reason to fuss over me—‘Mom’s hoarding Christmas decorations again!’”
Maxi laughed along with Olga, but as her eyes scanned the room, her gaze caught on the bare walls. The thought escaped her lips before she could filter it. “The walls, though...they’re so empty.”
Olga chuckled. “Ah, you’re right. But don’t you worry about that either. I can paint some rosemaling artwork to fill those spaces. It’s a traditional Norwegian decorative painting, you see. Perfect for our theme here!”
“Rosemaling?” Maxi’s eyes lit up as she pictured canvases filled with the colorful folk art on the walls. “That sounds fantastic, but again, don’t push yourself too hard.”
“Pushing ourselves is how we grow, dear,” Olga said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Besides, how else will I convince my overprotective children that their mom can still function on her own and still has a lot of life in her?”
Maxi laughed, grateful for Olga’s wisdom and resilience. “Well, if this gallery showing doesn’t prove it, I don’t know what will.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, Claire and Rob found themselves pulling into the parking lot of a somewhat rundown apartment complex. The building had seen better days, and Claire couldn’t help but wonder if they were in the right place.
“Are you sure you want to foster a dog? I hope I didn’t push you into this,” Claire said, eyeing the tired facade of the building as Rob parked the car.
Rob looked at her, smiling as he placed his hand reassuringly over hers. “Not at all. I’m actually pretty excited about it. But are you sure this is the right place?”
Claire double-checked the address that Marie had texted her earlier. “Yes, this is it.”
Claire rang the doorbell, feeling the evening chill seep through her jacket. The door swung open, and her jaw dropped. Standing on the other side was a woman Claire could scarcely recognize as Sandee—dressed in jeans and a dirty sweatshirt with her hair in disarray.
“You?” both women said almost simultaneously.
“You live here?” Claire asked, her eyebrows knitting together.
Sandee crossed her arms over her chest, defensive. “Yes. Peter and I have separated.”
At that moment, a cacophony of barks and yips filled the air as a cluster of dogs scrambled about. Sandee smiled, crouching to pet them and hushing their noisy enthusiasm. She opened the door wider, inviting Claire and Rob inside.
Claire gestured toward Rob. “This is Rob.”
“Yes, from the bread store,” Sandee said, extending her hand to Rob.
Rob chuckled, “Yes, and I remember you like crusty French bread.”
For a brief second, Claire felt a pang of jealousy. Was Sandee flirting with Rob? But she quickly reassured herself. She trusted Rob, and Sandee seemed more interested in the dogs than in Rob.
“You can take your pick.” Sandee gestured to the dogs.
Rob scanned the excited faces and wagging tails before his eyes settled on the dalmatian mix. “How about him?”
“He’s yours! But understand, we’re trying to find the owners of these lost dogs,” Sandee explained, petting the chosen dog affectionately. “If they’ve run off because they’re scared, they might get separated from their families. So he might not be with you for long. But if we can’t find his owner, you’re more than welcome to adopt him, of course.”
Rob seemed to mull this over as he petted the dog, clearly already enamored.
As Claire and Rob prepared to leave, she turned to Sandee. “By the way, I managed just fine at the animal rescue charity tent today.”
For a fleeting moment, Sandee’s eyes met Claire’s, and she looked genuinely regretful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it,” she said, gesturing toward the whirlwind of canine activity aroundthem. “As you can see, I’ve been a bit tied up. Just got back, actually.”
Claire’s curiosity was piqued. Marie had mentioned something about a volunteer from their group going to New York City for an emergency rescue operation. She’d never imagined that Sandee, who always seemed so wrapped up in herself, would do something so selfless.
“You went to New York?” Claire couldn’t hide her surprise.
